


Impulsive and reckless

by Hopefulwriter



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 04:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopefulwriter/pseuds/Hopefulwriter
Summary: Wilford teaches Google to think outside of the box that he's been programmed to be in





	Impulsive and reckless

**Author's Note:**

> I quite like this little thing, it's the first time I've written anything about Marks egos and I loved writing these two.
> 
>  
> 
> As always I hope you like it and let me know what you think!

~

 

Willford was an enigma, difficult to take apart and analyse, too quick, his thoughts changing on the turn of a dime and his actions even harder to gauge, whereas with Dark Google could tell him for what he was, a resourceful manipulator, and with further digging found that he was made with two souls, using both of their experiences for his own gains. He could find nothing about Wilford, the supercomputer that he is and he has no records of the man, anywhere. It was unusual, Google liked to make a log of details for all of the people that he was cohabiting with, registering danger levels for his own safety and curiosity, and he had a fair amount of information for everyone apart from a certain man with a pink moustache.

Google is boring, Wilford thinks, every action gauged and thought out showing the android that he is, and he wants to change that, to give him a taste of something different.

Wilford approaches him garishly one day, “Google, how are ya pal?” At first Google thinks him drunk but after a quick test he can't detect any alcohol on the others breath.

“Fine, Thank you, how are you?” Google reserves, watching him with an analysing gaze.

“Oh just fine, say, could you help me with something?” He inquires.

Googles brows furrow, “what do you need help with?” He says, trepidation plain in his tone.

“Ohh not much.” Wilford replies cripticly. 

That something ends up being paperwork, nothing more nothing less, it makes Google wonder what he was needed for as most of it Wilford has the capabilities to do himself. It's suspicious, strange but Wilford still seems to need him for something after, “what do you think of me?” He asks as if he's talking about the weather.

“I know the least about you of everyone else.” Google replies measured and cautious.

Wilford hums, resting his chin on his hand, “I'd like to change that, I think.” He decides.

Wilford holds to that, forgetful as Google finds him to be he still includes the robot into things. He had dragged Google into a meeting one day, even with the outraged faces of the people that insisted it was private, Wilford sat down in his seat at the head of the table and Google, not knowing what he was supposed to do, stayed standing, settling himself next to Wilford with his back straight until the man told him to sit down, an easygoing look on his face because he and everyone else, other than Google, in the room knew that if anybody said anything he would fire them on the spot.

Google sat taking mental notes as something to do that he would upload to Wilfords computer later, they were all talking about the new season of Wilfords television show and what they were going to do with it, Google listening to Wilfords outlandish ideas, brainstorming like a violent child, asking about the chance of rockets or guns with a big inspired smile on his face.

Google is the type that likes his own company but he has no chance of that now that Wilford is talking to him, the man having no idea of personal space or the notion that sometimes loud is too loud, in more ways than one, the way that he dresses being the main offender, a rainbow of pinks, sparkling shirts or tackily coloured bow ties of which Google has so far taken note of a collection of 10, which is too many in the androids personal opinion.

“What do you think of me?” Wilford asks, sounding curious as he looks to Google who he has seemingly employed to do his paperwork.

Google straightens the papers before slotting them into their respective part of a filing cabinet, “I, i know that I like you.” He pauses, testing the others expression, “I like being in your presence.” 

“Aw, pal, you'll bring a tear to my eye.” Wilford teases, “I like being with you too.” 

 

But Dark doesn't seem to like that Wilford is spending time with him of all of them, an android, Dark probably thinks that Wilford is wasting his time, and he says as much with Google in the room, “why are you spending time with him?” 

Wilfords brows crease together, “he's my friend.” He sounds serious, Google hadn't expected him to say that to anyone.

Darks form flickers as he laughs, “how can you be friends with a robot?” 

“You can just fine.” Wilford says, shifting in place, “why are you asking me this?”

“I'm only looking out for you, making sure you won't regret this.” Dark says lowly, leaning towards Wilford as if it's in a tone that Google can't hear.

“I don't think I will, thank you.” Wilford frowns, taking a cautious step back as Dark walks away.

Google approaches his friend, “are you okay?” He questions.

Wilford waves his hand, sighing exasperatedly as he seats himself in his chair again, “he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning I think.”

“I second that.” Google agrees, dry as only he could be, making Wilford laugh heartily, “I appreciate you calling me your friend.” He says truthfully.

“What else was I going to call you? That's what you are to me.” He smiles.

“But I can agree to some extent of what he's saying, that you might be able to make a more worthwhile investment of your time elsewhere.” Google frowns.

“Well you shouldn't and I can spend my time in whatever way I like, as long as we both enjoy being with each other then I don't care.” Wilford replied, his heart in his words and Google cracked a rare smile.

 

Wilford is strange when he drinks, his lips looser, and Google doesn't support what he says about health benefits as a reasoning, but Wilford shuts his facts of opposite benefits down and tips back another shot of whiskey, not making a face at the burn that surely was working down his throat, “I wish you could try this.” Wilford laments.

“I'm glad that I'm not able and I wish that you weren't.” Google frowns, analysing the bottle and sneering slightly at the alcohol volume.

“Don't worry about it, it's not doing me any harm.” He brushes off, although Google could list the health complications to the contrary but withholds. There's a pause as Wilford gets hold of a larger glass than the other and pores whiskey into it, Wilford sighs as he brings it to his lips, “that's better.” He comments to his alcohol.

After a while Wilford is what an outsider would class as drunk, just by looking at him, slightly slouched as he is, “I think that you are done with this.” Google announces as he takes away the whisky bottle.

Only for it to be grasped from his hand in a too strong hold, Wilford holding it close to himself as if a child with a beloved toy, “no, you're only trying to spoil my fun.” He argued.

“I'm not, I only worry for your health.” Google settles.

“You're good like that, aren't you? Too good for me.” Wilford smiles contentedly.

“I like making sure that you are okay, we are good for each other.” Google supposes, looking to his friend.

“We are aren't we.” Wilford states, something unusual and soft coming over his face.

“What is that look for?” Google inquires, there isn't much that he doesn't know so this is strange for him.

“I don't know.” Wilfords voice is soft, but it's truthfully stumped.

There was a minuscule change, one that a normal person wouldn't notice but Google isn't a normal person. Wilfords boundaries seem to have dropped slightly and his body language makes him feel even closer than he was before, being closer physically isn't possible, when they are near each other Wilford makes sure that they are touching, the man's body seeking him out, Wilfords legs brushing his whenever they are in a meeting. 

And Google, strangely, doesn't hate it, a while ago he would have been frustrated with that contact but now he doesn't find himself questioning very often. He still wants to find out what Wilford means by it though, asking the other one day, “why are you so close to me now?” It comes across as blunt but Google doesn't know how to phrase that question any other way.

“What if I just like being closer to you now?” Wilford returns, Google giving him a look in return, making his friend sigh heavily, “okay, it isn't as simple as that, I suppose I do feel differently for you, but in another way.” He stumbles.

Google thought for a second, “you mean..” he didn't quite know what to say.

Wilford stepped closer, “I never normally feel this strongly for people, but you're not really a person, are you.” He smiled, looking less confident than Google has ever seen him.

“No, I'm not.” Google smiled in a way that he hoped would be reassuring, “though, I suppose that would explain what I have been feeling recently.” Wilford got this look on his face so lovely that Google would love to see it a lot more.

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> And I hope you have an awesome day/night!


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